


spicy jalapeño

by thunderylee



Category: Kanjani8 (Band), Tackey & Tsubasa
Genre: Canon Universe, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-25
Updated: 2011-12-25
Packaged: 2019-01-22 11:22:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12480412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thunderylee/pseuds/thunderylee
Summary: Prompt: Subaru x Tsubasa, something not AU.





	spicy jalapeño

**Author's Note:**

> reposted from agck.

“Salsa dancing?” Subaru asks skeptically, eyeballing his old friend.

Tsubasa sighs. “Ordinarily I wouldn’t bother you, but Hide-kun and I usually go on Tuesday nights, and he’s busy. I _really_ want to be there for this new move we’re learning tonight.”

Subaru fakes a knowing sigh. “Oh, it’s _gay_ salsa dancing. Why didn’t you say so? I’ll go get my heels.”

“Baru.” Tsubasa folds his arms across his chest. “Don’t you owe me for that time I covered for you with your mom when you wanted to hook up with that girl?”

“That was, like, fifteen years ago,” Subaru points out. “I don’t owe you anything.”

Tsubasa pouts, and it’s not at all cute under his Mexistache. “ _Please_ , Baru. I’ll owe _you_ one.”

“Fine,” Subaru agrees. “But I’m not wearing a dress.”

“Fair enough,” says Tsubasa, handing him a card. “Meet me here at eight o’clock tonight. And try not to look like a scrub.”

Subaru narrows his eyes and puts on the rattiest clothing he owns before heading out to the studio. Naturally, they’re the only male/male couple there, but that’s not what concerns the other students; the minute he walks in the door, Subaru’s bombarded with questions asking after Takki, if he’s feeling well or if – heaven forbid – he and Tsubasa broke up.

“I thought all of that marriage shit was just rumors,” Subaru teases Tsubasa as they get into formation.

“Shut up,” Tsubasa grumbles. “It gets us better rates.”

“Whatever you have to tell yourself,” Subaru says. “I don’t discriminate.”

Tsubasa subtly kicks him in the back of the leg as they do warm-ups, Subaru over-dramatizing the steps just to be a brat. He and Yasu often salsa dance to inappropriate songs at the bar, so he knows what he’s doing. The more aggravated Tsubasa gets, the more entertained Subaru is, especially when it looks like steam is going to blow out of his ears.

The instructor says something in Spanish, and Subaru nudges Tsubasa. “What did she say?”

“New move,” Tsubasa answers quickly, giving the instructor his rapt attention. “Shh.”

Like Tsubasa can understand Spanish. Subaru watches the female’s moves and imitates them perfectly, earning praise from the instructor and a dirty look from Tsubasa, which Subaru follows with a big shit-eating grin. It’s then that Tsubasa grabs him, performing the entire routine flawlessly while digging his fingers into Subaru’s waist and does he really have to be so close?

Subaru’s a little flustered when it’s over, stumbling outside for a cigarette, and Tsubasa follows him with knowing eyes.

“You’re surprisingly good at this,” Tsubasa says carefully.

“I’m good at a lot of things that you don’t know about,” Subaru replies coolly as he takes a puff.

Tsubasa just gives him a raised eyebrow, which looks kind of weird under his fedora, and turns to go back inside. Once done with his cigarette, Subaru follows, resigning himself to two more hours of this particular salsa routine that makes him feel like he’s being molested, but in a good way.

If nothing else, Tsubasa is damn graceful. Subaru feels like he’s being glided rather than moved around, fingertips grazing lightly up and down his arms as they move together, and Subaru’s regretting not wearing a long-sleeved shirt despite the heat coursing through him. He’s hot and cold at the same time, his body spinning on his own, and when Tsubasa dips him, their eyes finally meet.

And then Tsubasa drops him onto the floor.

“What the,” Subaru starts, grabbing onto his head. “Ow, fuck.”

“Oh no, are you okay?” Tsubasa flails, kneeling by Subaru’s side and giving him big, worried eyes. “Should I take you to the hospital?”

“No, I’m fine -” Subaru starts, but Tsubasa’s already picking him up like a fucking child and Subaru can’t really complain because his nose is in Tsubasa’s neck and his cologne is enticing.

Tsubasa’s saying something in what Subaru is sure is really bad Spanish to the instructor, then switches to Japanese at her confused look. “We have to go. My friend could have a concussion.”

“I don’t have a fucking concussion, put me down,” Subaru grumbles.

Clearly ignoring him, Tsubasa carries him right out of the studio and into his car, where Subaru finally escapes from his clutches and stares him down over the console. “What the actual -”

He can’t talk anymore, because Tsubasa is _kissing_ him. Actually kissing him, lips to lips, and Subaru can’t quite wrap his mind around this insanity. Moreso that he’s kissing back, quite fervently, all of that goddamn salsa dancing making him so hot he’s surprised he hasn’t thrown Tsubasa down in the backseat yet. Tsubasa seems just as worked up, fingers sliding up into Subaru’s hair and swallowing Subaru’s faint moan when he tugs just enough to hurt so good.

“- _fuck_ , Tsubasa,” Subaru finishes too late, the words taking on a completely different context now that Subaru feels that dumb mustache against his upper lip. “Is this why you dropped me?”

“Not exactly,” Tsubasa admits, looking sheepish as he catches his breath. “I knew we would be doing this intimate move this week, so Hide-kun said I should bring you instead. The dropping was a bonus way out.”

Subaru blinks. “Why would he tell you to bring me?”

“Because I _like_ you,” Tsubasa says. “Stupid.”

“Oh.” Subaru licks his lips, plays with his fingers, and finally nods. “Okay.”

Tsubasa starts to sigh, but this time he’s the one cut off by a mouth as Subaru pulls him over the console and leans his seat back. Tsubasa catches on _fast_ and covers Subaru’s body with his, the light material of his mesh shirt and high-wasted dance pants easy to feel though, and Subaru moans as an erection rubs against his own.

“Wait,” Tsubasa gasps, and Subaru pulls back in confusion. “I want you to understand that I don’t just want to mess around with you.”

“Understood,” Subaru says firmly, then yanks him down in for another kiss. Tsubasa is like crack, bad for you but so, so addictive, and the more Tsubasa kisses and touches him, the more he wonders why they haven’t been doing this for years.

Tsubasa touches him delicately, not like he’ll break but like he’s something treasured, fingers gliding lightly over his body like it’s a dance move. The atmosphere softens and Subaru curls his body into Tsubasa’s, hands dropping down to grab his ass and Tsubasa’s deep groan leaves Subaru’s tongue tingling.

They get as far as opening each other’s pants, moaning into each other’s mouths as their cocks touch with no barriers and Subaru is the one who takes them both in his hand, squeezing and stroking them together.

It’s over entirely too fast, but Subaru likes the way Tsubasa shudders on top of him and clutches onto him as he comes. He rakes his nails through Tsubasa’s hair as they come down, the temperature in Tsubasa’s car sweltering for the middle of winter, and Subaru chuckles as a thought occurs to him.

“This salsa experience was only mildly hot,” he says, and Tsubasa rolls his eyes. “Next time I want it fiery.”


End file.
